


One and Then the Other

by missbeizy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Prostate Milking, Public Sex, RPF, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:29:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unapologetic threesome smut.  Like seriously, do not enter if you're looking for plot.  >_>  Chris/Will/Darren sammich.  Brief, positive references to Mia if that bugs you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One and Then the Other

In their defense, it is three in the morning and everyone is passed out all over the place. He can't really blame them for waiting all night, for waiting until they were absolutely sure that no one would notice. It's nothing to do with blame at all really, and everything to do with the fact that they're definitely, definitely fucking just five yards away from where Darren is "sleeping" and—the room is so quiet. 

It's not as if he can do what he'd usually do, which is pop in his ear buds and turn his iPod way up. Trust him—he is more than used to roommates fucking nearby. But he can't. They'd hear. They'd know that he's awake. They'd know that he's been trying to not think about the fact that he's been palming himself through his boxer shorts for a while now. That the minute he'd heard that first high-pitched gasp that he'd started to get hard.

They'd know that they're making soft, breathy noises that he can hear, despite the fact that they are buried under a blanket and obviously trying to be quiet. Will is on top of Chris (his feet are sticking out of the bottom of their blanket burrito and Darren recognizes his socks) and moving so, so slowly, you would not even really be able to figure it out if it weren't for Chris making little explosive noises and then finally collapsing into begging when some time has passed.

Darren is so fucking hard that it hurts, but he hasn't moved past just—kind of cupping himself, because he just—it's weird, and he can't, he's never thought of Chris that way, ever, not a single moment since they started working together. Chris is his bro, his friend, and even though they don't get along all the time the things they do have in common have allowed them to form such a lovely working relationship that he can't believe he's sitting here listening to him get fucked by his boyfriend and getting off on it.

His really kind of amazingly hot and nice boyfriend who is holding him down and pushing into him at this maddeningly slow, precise pace that Darren can feel in his toes. He's really, really glad in that moment for he and Mia's open relationship policy, because—this is a first and he is really kind of freaked out by it. There have been girls, here and there, but really, none that he couldn't ignore or pass by, given the chance.

And then they start talking.

"W-wait," Chris breathes.

"Shh." Soothing. Gentle.

"Please. Please, just—a little more."

"Got you. I've got you," Will breathes. His hips snap and churn faster, making the blanket bob up and down. He is far between Chris' legs, which bracket his body in triangle shape that tents the blanket.

"Have to," Chris gasps. "They'll hear. They'll hear, oh god, I can't—"

"You can do it."

"I can't. Please. Put your—"

"Want my fingers in your mouth?"

"Ohgodyes please."

Darren squeezes himself, panting.

Muffled, squeaky gasping, and then it's just Will's voice in a non-stop, breathy babble, "So fucking tight, baby, love the way you squeeze around me, waited all night, so patient...stopped you from coming so many times—"

That explains the constant disappearing upstairs and also the ever present blanket over their laps. Darren wonders how many times Chris had wanted, had waited, to come. He wonders what Will did to stop him. He wonders what it would feel like, to be controlled so well and to love every minute of it. 

He can't stop; he starts stroking himself in time with Will's thrusts. He has to come. He fucking has to, and no potential breaking of the silence is going to keep him from it now. His dick has spoken.

"Don't care, it's okay, drool all the fuck over my fingers, it's okay, gonna make you feel so good, gonna jerk you off so hard, honey, my cock deep inside you, not gonna stop, okay?" Frantic, high-pitched whining, the whisper of cloth on cloth—god, they must've just pushed down their underwear and—

Chris' legs go all the way around Will's waist. God, his legs are so fucking long. And then there's a slowing down, and Will sits up on his hands a little, the blanket stretches enough so that Will's head pops out. His hair is a mess. He goes still, and then there's just a frantic rapid low wet noise as he jerks Chris' cock. And now that the blanket has unraveled a bit, Darren can hear the slick sucking noise of Will's cock sliding in and out of Chris' body.

Darren is so fucking close. So close, but he—he wants to wait, wants to come with Chris, when Will gets him there Darren wants to get there, too.

Chris thrashes on the floor, and Darren knows when he's just there because he starts breathing heavily and wriggling and Will pants in sympathy.

"Let go," he hisses, slamming his pelvis home. "Come all over yourself for me."

Darren comes with Chris, biting his lip so hard that it bleeds. And when he opens his eyes to see if anyone has woken up—he's sure he didn't make a noise (he is kind of a jerk off ninja; see above comments in regards to roommates), but you never know—Will is staring right the fuck at him. 

A wet tongue glides across Will's lip, and he just stares at Darren in the semi-darkness, saying nothing and everything with just that glance.

That glance says, got you. That glance says, naughty, naughty.

 

*

 

Darren isn't the kind of person who is any good at hiding things, especially when they're emotional things or things that fuck with his desires. He just kind of—lives the value of honesty in a really literal way. He can't turn it off, he can't stop himself, he's no fucking good at pretending.

He dances around Chris like a spooked rabbit for weeks after, and he isn't sure whether he's coming off more schoolboy crush or mentally unbalanced stalker, but he'd like to think that Chris would appreciate the value of a little bit of both. Chris is cool like that, at least when it comes to people that he's comfortable with.

One evening after knocking off work they're gathering things from the trailer they're sharing for the day when Chris' phone goes off.

Darren vibrates quietly. He's been so on edge today, constantly staring at Chris in his ridiculously tight Kurt outfit and practically blushing, and he's got gel drying behind his right ear and he thinks he's still wearing Blaine's socks, and then there's a sudden, gaping silence behind him.

He turns around. Chris is looking at him strangely.

"Sup?" he asks, shrugging a messenger bag over his shoulder. They were going to get a drink, but it is late, and that was probably Will, who he knows is so rarely home at the same time as Chris that they usually jump at the chance to overnight together. He would throw out something like, "Bros before hos" if he weren't so damned interested in Will at the moment.

"I've been given some very interesting instructions that I'm not sure I fully understand," Chris says, dry and slow.

"Is this like that time we created a World of Warcraft-esque quest line for the production team to follow? And told them that if they didn't make it to the end that we'd refuse to acknowledge that day's re-writes?" Darren asks, totally on board if it is.

"No," Chris says. He's wearing a very tight pair of jeans and a t-shirt that probably fit him when he was seventeen but now rides up with the slightest motion of his arms. Darren snaps his eyes back up guiltily. 

Chris closes the distance between them and tilts his head. "I've been told to kiss you. Not as Blaine, but to kiss you. And see what happens."

"The Internet has led you astray, Christopher," Darren says, quite sure of himself.

"Oh, yes, it often does," Chris answers. "Except this instruction comes directly from my boyfriend, so you see why I am a little confused."

Darren stares at Chris' pink mouth, feeling the two inch height difference between them even more since Chris is wearing boots so it's more like four inches right now. It isn't fair that Chris looms so well without even trying.

That's all it takes. Chris looks as if he's made up his mind and leans in, taking Darren's face in his hands and kissing him. It is absolutely nothing like kissing him on screen. In a way, they never have kissed at all, not Chris-and-Darren. Darren stifles a noise and opens his mouth and lets Chris kiss him, but he almost can't kiss back, not fully.

The fucking problem is he can't stop thinking about Will.

He wants Chris, too, because they are sort of a package deal, and now that he's seen Chris as a sexual being he can't unseen it, but—really, it's Will he keeps imagining, spiky hair and teasing glances, voice a little lower than Chris', completely comfortable with himself in ways that maybe Chris isn't yet. So sure of himself. He kind of—doesn't just want either of them, though. He wants them both, and Will being not present has made things awkward for him.

"I watched you, that night at Amber's," Darren confesses as soon as their mouths smack wetly apart. "I watched you. I'm sorry, I just—was awake and you were—fuck, I'm an idiot. Will caught me. He never said anything...?"

"No," Chris answers, chest still hitching unevenly. His face is bright red. He glances at his phone again. "I've got to go. He says, think about it. That's all."

"Okay," Darren breathes. 

 

*

 

The next time they're alone in Chris' trailer and Chris' phone gets a text Darren tenses up—it's the middle of the day and they're in half-costume and full make-up.

"Make out with him," Chris reads, eyebrows up. "Mr. Criss, your thoughts?"

"Anita is going to kill us," Darren replies, eyes ticking up to his perfectly arranged Blaine hair. 

If people knew how long it actually took to make his hair obey the eighteen pounds of hair gel they use to tame it in the morning, they'd laugh. At one point Chris had compared it too how long it took the extras on the set of the Lord of the Rings to get into orc make-up. (Darren had agreed wholeheartedly.)

Chris goes back to reading off his phone, "Make him sit in your lap."

Darren feels his skin go hot and his dick twitch. He can tell that Chris is interested—there's really no way to hide that in the pants that Kurt wears. Something very calm and obedient takes Darren over; he locks the trailer door and then settles, straddled, over Chris' lap.

He should be weirded out by all this but he's not. "Anything else?" he asks, with more than a little attitude.

"Shut up and make out with me, asshole," Chris says in a friendly voice, grabbing him by the back of the neck and dragging him down. They kiss and grind and it's—okay, so it is kind of weird. He's only just started thinking about Chris as anything more than a close, reliable friend, but—those legs. That mouth. That neck. 

He nips-kisses all the way down Chris' jaw and starts mouthing and sucking at his neck. Fucking Christ he has like, miles of neck, and it's so easy to bite, to lick. To suck. He sucks one spot, then moves onto another, and then another, and then another, until Chris is whining and humping his thigh. He bruises so easily. His throat is literally covered in hickeys by the time Darren stops.

"You're lucky that I have become the master of covering these up before I come to work in the morning," Chris breathes, biting his jaw.

"Fuck, you look so hot all marked up," Darren breathes, cupping Chris' face to look at his neck easier. All thoughts of Will disappear because there are still clear patches of white skin all over Chris' neck and throat and this is unacceptable.

It's only when his slides his hand between Chris' legs that Chris swats him. "Will said no coming."

"Your boyfriend is evil," Darren states.

"God, he is, isn't he?" Chris asks, looking very, very, very turned on by that fact.

"I want to lick you everywhere," Darren replies.

"Gnah," is all Chris has to say to that.

 

*

 

And then nothing. It's so weird—it's not as if Chris and Darren start messing around. They only do it when Will tells them to, so there's a restraint there that feels like being constantly shoved back, and part of Darren hates it but another part of him likes it.

He gets so tense that just being alone with Chris is a torment, and he's rarely ever with Will, much less alone with Will, so it's no surprise that the next time Will tells them to make out in the trailer he's on Chris before Chris even has time to ask him if he's up for it.

They don't come, but it's fun for a few minutes to just kiss and dry hump. Of course, then he starts to get hard, and suddenly it isn't as much fun, because he knows that Chris will never want to come without Will allowing them—and face it, deep down Darren doesn't want to, either.

"Come home with me?" Chris asks, when they've gone as far as they can go without coming in their pants.

"Is that—did he—?"

"We want you," Chris breathes, biting Darren's neck and sucking a mark into the side. "He's—kind of bossy, is that cool with you?"

"God, yes, it is."

Which is how he ends up at Chris' house for the first time in months, shaking on the door step like a leaf because he hasn't been this turned on in his entire life and he's hard in his jeans and he can still taste Chris' saliva on his lips and he hasn't seen Will in a while and he—he wants, he wants so badly that he can't breathe.

He's afraid that he's going to do something remarkably stupid.

And he kind of does.

The door opens and Will is standing there in a pair of skin-tight jeans and a tank top with his hair gelled into spikes and his dimples a mile wide and Darren can't inhale at all.

Chris slides into Will's arms and Will puts one hand down the back pocket of Chris' jeans and the other around his neck and they kiss like Will is trying to climb down his throat and god—Chris is liquid against Will, all the bones in his body gone lax at the touch of his boyfriend. 

The door shuts behind them.

He watches them make out for a minute or two, and then Will beckons with a finger and Darren slides into their arms and Will grabs him by the chin and pulls him into a kiss that's tongues first and lips second.

He gasps. Chris licks at his neck and jaw as Will fucks his mouth open.

"You little peeping Tom," Will whispers, licking over Darren's teeth. "What do you want? First thing, don't think about it, just tell me."

"I want you to fuck me like you fucked Chris that night," he says, no filter whatsoever.

Will grins. "That may be on the menu. The very long, very filthy menu." He curls his arm farther around Chris—who is grinning, blushing, ducking his head into the crook of Will's neck. "Okay, baby?" Chris nods, burying his face in Will's neck. Will strokes him, whispers in his ear, "Don't hide. You can. We're gonna make him feel so good. Want you to enjoy yourself, too."

Darren blinks hazily. Lust has definitely taken over his thought process. He kind of wants to be naked, like, yesterday, preferably with a cock something in one of his holes. And he's not too picky at the moment about whose—though he'd prefer Will fucking him and Chris' cock in his mouth.

"Bedroom, okay? Shower if you need to, I'll be up in twenty minutes. No touching each other, no kissing, nothing."

They go, barely looking at each other for fear of breaking that rule.

Chris showers first and Darren second. It seems as if the no touching no kissing rule doesn't extend to teasing—when he leaves the bathroom with a towel around his hips he finds Chris naked on the bed except for his own towel which is just covering his cock. Beneath the towel, his hand is moving steadily on himself. He's flushed pink from the arousal and the hot shower and he's breathing heavily.

"Impatient," Darren murmurs, shaking his head.

Chris exhales roughly, "Hard as a rock."

Darren stares, unable to look away. God, Chris is just—beautiful. 

The towel is nothing but a triangle of white between his thighs now. His legs, bent slightly at the knee, slowly spread—spread—spread, until they're as far apart as they can go. His hand moves faster. Fuck, his legs go on for-fucking-ever. Darren can't tell if he's fingering himself or not.

"D-don't," Darren groans. "Don't come yet." And who is he to talk? He's standing there tenting his towel like a horizontal flag pole.

"Fuck," Chris hisses, back arched, cheeks glowing red.

Will walks in wearing just his jeans, and Darren's mouth goes dry—he's about to say something along the lines of, "Damn, Colfer, score," but then Will straddles Chris' waist and takes his hands and pins them above his head.

"Naughty," he breathes, leaning down and kissing Chris as if they are completely alone.

"Please," Chris gasps as Will bites and sucks at his neck.

"Shh."

And then they just—kiss and writhe together, and Darren watches, helpless and wanting, and missing Mia a little because—fuck, Chris and Will are so obviously crazy about each other, the way they move—the way they kiss, god, Chris just—

He's drooling, and he doesn't even realize it until he feels his chin go wet.

Chris peers around Will's shoulder at one point, and if Darren thought he was turned on before he is dying for it now—his face is bright red and his eyes so fucking full of want that they make Darren blush just looking into them.

"Join us?" he asks, rough and high-pitched and just a little lispy, which means he's fucking gone, and—

Darren swallows a mouthful of saliva and crawls across the bed, losing the towel as he goes. He's so hard that his cock actually bounces against his belly as he moves, and before he can even say anything Will is dragging him close by the scruff of his neck and kissing him. And then Chris leans up on his elbows and kisses him, too, and they're all sort of kissing each other, Will's hand scraping down the back of Darren's neck and Chris sliding one leg around Will's waist.

It's so fucking confusing. Darren needs a fucking map or something because—so many hands, so many knees and elbows, he is going to freak out in about five seconds—

"Never done this?" Will asks, pulling back.

"Um, no." 

"Girlfriend okay with it?"

"She—uh, yeah, she's—we're okay like that."

"Excellent," Will says, just a little Southern twangy as he takes Darren's hand and puts it on Chris' flushed, damp cock. "I want you to suck him."

"Oh," Darren breathes, Will's fingers tangle in his hair, pushing him down between Chris' legs.

God, Chris' cock is impossibly long and slender, it's so pink, dripping at the slit and—Darren pants, wanting it in his mouth. He wonders if Chris is loud, if Chris will wrap his legs around Darren and ride his mouth—

"Lips over your teeth, we're not gonna tease him too much, he's close—take it in your mouth, go on."

Darren does so, moan vibrating along Chris' cock as he pushes his mouth down around it. It's big, and hard, and tastes like sweat. He shakes a little, wanting to use his hands but—Will just pushes his head down.

"Breathe through your nose. Relax your throat." He grins when Darren's nose meets Chris' pubic hair, even though Darren is panting heavily through his nostrils and panicking in a good way. "Good boy—god, look at that. Such a fucking natural." Chris pushes deeper, thrusts a few times—whining softly as Darren hollows his cheeks and sucks.

"Oh, fuck," Chris moans. "Stop. Stop stop I—I'm going to come, I can't—"

Will draws Darren off and Darren coughs and gasps and wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. "Shit."

"Not bad for your first try."

Will kisses the tang of Chris' taste off of his mouth—and something about having done that makes Darren feel a little less self-conscious. He kisses back, whimpering and wrapping his arms around Will's neck.

"Mmm, sweet," Will hums, kissing his ear. "Still want me to fuck you?"

Darren shakes. "Yeah, god, fuck yeah."

Will raises his eyebrows at Chris. "Gonna help or just lie there all selfish and cute?"

Chris grins, rolls onto his side. "Well, if I can't touch myself then at least I can watch someone be touched."

"You could help me stretch his little virgin hole open," Will says, rough and low.

"Oh, my god," Darren moans.

Chris licks his lip. "I can do that."

They take turns kissing him again, one right after the other, not giving him enough time to panic about their hands stroking him everywhere—his arms and shoulders and chest and belly, and Chris goes at his nipples at one point, leaving him panting. Will sucks bruises into his hips and licks wet paths down his legs and on the way back up manages to drop a few more marks before he nuzzles his way in between Darren's thighs.

He's probably just as close as Chris had been, despite the fact that they're touching everything but his dick—somehow that's made it worse. Their hands and mouths are fucking everywhere but where he needs them, where he's fucking aching.

And then Will starts sucking on his balls and he can't stop the gasping, desperate moan that stutters out from between his lips. Chris catches it with his tongue and swallows it, fucking Darren's mouth wide.

"Never messed around down there?" he asks, biting Darren's lip.

"N-no. Shit. Shit." Will keeps pressing his balls and it feels so good, so fucking good, and then his thumb kind of scoots behind them and presses, and Darren jumps. "Oh, god. Oh fuck."

Will plays that spot between his balls and his hole like an instrument, rubbing in hard little circles until Darren can feel the touch throbbing deep inside. He can't stop his hips from moving, his thighs from falling apart, and Chris' left hand sneaks down to lift his balls up and make it easier.

"Let me," he says, panting a little. "Wanna feel him, too." Chris has the lube, and so he wets his fingers with it and Will's, too, and then—then it's so fucking slick and sudden and their hands, fuck their hands are between his cheeks and he can't fucking take it, it's too much.

"Fuck, I'm going to shoot so fast if you keep doing that, I—fuck," he hisses, belly jiggling just a little as he rocks his hips into their fingers. They haven't even touched his hole yet and he's already fucking losing it.

Will's fingertips circle the rim of his asshole just once, and he gasps and his eyes flutter closed. He's really not a small degrees sort of guy—and so the second those soft touches begin he grounds out, "Fucking put something in me, fuck, can't wait."

They both grin and laugh a little, but not at his expense; they seem pretty pleased with him. Chris kisses down the side of his neck and is right there to swallow his sharp exhale when Will pushes his middle finger inside.

"Fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck, yes."

"God, you're tight—"

"Lemme," Chris says, and—pushes a finger in right alongside Will's. "Damn."

Darren is staring at the frankly comically large bulge in Will's jeans. He'd really wanted to suck Will first, but now—fuck it.

He reaches out and cups the hard-on through Will's jeans while their combined fingers fuck in and out of him. It's probably the weirdest sensation in the world, borderline uncomfortable at first, but fuck he just wants it so badly, it almost doesn't matter. The looser he gets, the better it feels, like warm waves swelling and crashing somewhere deep in his belly.

Will's chest—god, that fucking chest—rises and falls as Darren rubs him. "See something you like?"

"Please put that in me," Darren rasps.

Chris whimpers against his shoulder, pressing another finger inside. He can feel Chris' cock leaking against his leg, and he wants so much that he can't focus on any one thing. He's so fucking wet down there, so fucking open—

Will unbuttons his jeans and fuck, those hips. Darren would get up and lick them until they shined if he weren't so interested in getting to the fucking like, yesterday. And Chris keeps rutting up against his leg and he kind of hopes that he gets to touch that cock again, soon, too, and—god, he needs more hands.

"The first time that I did this to Chris, he was so fucking nervous," Will breathes, putting his fingers back inside of Darren and hooking them deep and soft, wrist flexing; the muscles in his arms bunch; Darren gasps. "He'd never really enjoyed it before—fucking loser boyfriends had never had a clue—and he was a little drunk—by request because he was so fucking scared—I honestly never thought he'd let me, but. That night he was so—perfect. He whimpered and hyperventilated; every finger took so long to get inside, but pretty soon I had three in him, and he lost it—he was so fucked up by then, soaked with lube, shaking so hard it made the bed move. Prostate so fucking swollen I couldn't even avoid touching it—made him squirt so many times he lost count—"

"Please," Darren gasps. He's going to fucking come just rubbing the head of his cock across his belly if Will doesn't do something to take his mind off of the images he's spinning.

"You can do better than that," Chris rasps out, smearing Darren's pre-come all over his own stomach.

"Fucking need you to fuck me, please. Please. Want to get off on your dick, want to fucking come so bad—"

"Better," Will breathes, sharing a fond, charged glance with Chris before smoothing his fingers up and in and finding—

"Oh my fucking god, what—"

"You're not going to come. It feels like it, I know, but you're not. Just let go a little."

Darren sobs, and fluid spurts weakly from the head of his cock and down the shaft. "Oh, fuck, fuck."

"Good boy," Will whispers.

"Please fuck me." He is officially a wreck. "Fuck me, fuck me hard." He can't stop staring at the fat cock bobbing out of the front of Will's jeans. It's curved wickedly at the head, which itself is so fucking wide that Darren can feel it already.

Chris gets a condom and takes his sweet time putting it on Will, and they get lost in kissing each other for a while, leaving Darren there to wriggle and sweat on the sheets.

Finally, they peel apart and Will asks, breathing hard, "Any preference on position?"

"Want to be able to suck Chris at the same time," Darren breathes.

"As long as he doesn't come," Will says.

Chris bites his lip and kneels up and fuck, he isn't quite as toned as Will but he has this willowy soft slimness to him that makes Darren see both female and male features at the same time and it's—strangely hotter for that. His cock is red and swollen from denial.

"Hands and knees," Will decides.

"God yes," Darren agrees, and scrambles into place.

"Your back is fucking sinful," Will breathes, passing his hands over it to squeeze his ass cheeks. "Your ass—fuck, you've gone your whole life never having this beautiful ass filled up? Oh, honey. Bring Mia next time. We need to have a chat."

Darren chokes. The thought of including her—he almost comes right then and there.

Of course, that thought lasts about as long as it takes for Will to slide the thickness of his cock along Darren's crack, and then, well—Chris brushes the tip of his along Darren's lips and he opens his mouth hungrily, taking Chris in. His belly flexes as he pushes forward, making Darren take him deep and then pulling back.

"Not going to be able to do much of that," Chris breathes, fingers in Darren's hair.

"Okay, Darren?" Will asks, circling his rim with teasing sweeps. "Need more fingers again?"

"No, fuck no, just—please—" His pelvis writhes backwards eagerly. He feels so fucking empty.

"Don't come," Will says softly to Chris, eyes burning. "I'm going to fuck you next, honey, and I want to feel you come around me, okay? You've been so good, I know how long you've waited."

Chris whimpers, bottom lip sucked in, and god—they are so fucking hot together, it should be illegal to be that hot with so little effort.

"Relax for me," Will breathes, feeling the muscles of Darren's back for his reaction. "Breathe, okay? When I push in, push back against me and exhale. I won't hurt you." The press of his cock is so blunt—it takes Darren's breath away for a second—but then it gives way to a burning push and then—nothing but pressure, massive beautiful warm pressure as the shaft spreads his hole and sinks inside.

"Fuck, you are like a vise," Will curses. "Jesus. Jesus Christ." He bottoms out, belly heaving against Darren's upturned cheeks. "Take a breathe and push me out."

It's a weird way of putting it, but it works, and he pulls out—the discomfort edges away, and then next time he slides back in it feels good, like pressing a bruise.

"Oh," Darren breathes. Chris is just hovering in front of him now, watching as Will spears him again, and then again. His cock is throbbing in mid-air, leaking onto the sheets. He'll come probably the second he's touched firmly or repeatedly, and Darren knows that he won't get to suck him anymore.

"Okay?" Will asks, panting.

"More lube," Darren spits, and seconds later he has it, Chris' fingers dribbling the cool slippery stuff all over his ass and Will's cock.

And oh, that's—so much better.

"Okay, I'm—you can move."

That's it, oh, that's—

"Oh god," he breathes, lowering his pelvis just a little and raising his shoulders so he can angle back down against the fat cock filling him up. "Oh god that feels so—fuck, can feel you in my fucking stomach, so fucking deep."

Will knows how to use his hips and stomach muscles in ways that Darren will probably never understand—it's like he's being fucked from eighteen different angles at a clip, Will's fingers digging into his hips, finding all the soft fatty spots between his muscles, pressing them, bruising them. 

It starts out so slow and careful and then all of the sudden it's fast, hard, Will's body slapping his, Will's balls spanking the back of his with every thrust.

He buries his hot cheek against Chris' flat belly, breathing out harsh. Chris is stroking his hair and letting him drop kisses all over the curved, aching hardness of his cock, hissing with each dab of tongue.

"Want to suck you off while Will fucks you," Chris says, after Will has ridden his ass for a while. "Can I? Is that okay?"

"Please, yes," Darren pants. His ass is so fucking open now that it just feels good, no hint of too much friction or discomfort.

He isn't expecting Chris to just—slide under his belly on the bed, though, so when the soft wetness of that mouth closes around his aching dick he jumps, gasping. Chris is on his back perpendicular to Darren's body, and with every thrust Will drives Darren's dripping cock down Chris' throat.

It's too much. He's not going to last very long like this. He stares under his own body to watch Chris upside down, cheeks bulging, mouth ringed with spit and pre-come as he swallows Darren over, and over, and over.

"Chris, Jesus," Darren gasps, body sliding a little. "Oh god, I can't—"

"Wanna come down his throat, don't you?" Will gasps. "Fill that mouth, hm?"

"God, yes."

"He loves swallowing," Will says, slamming Darren open, over and over. "He's so good at this, no gag reflex at all—fuck. Fuck. Come, Darren. Come for me, you can."

Chris starts sucking harder, and jerking at the base of Darren's cock with his right hand. Fuck, his mouth, the slurping noises, the wet contraction of his throat as he takes Darren deep—

"Shit," Darren sobs, and feels his balls contract.

Chris swallows his come as it pulses, spilling out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin. 

"Oh my god."

He comes up grinning and licking the come that had overflowed into his mouth.

Will pulls out not long after, stroking the abused stretch of Darren's hole fondly.

He changes condoms with a practiced hand, and before Darren can even kneel up he's being pulled into a three-way embrace and being kissed—by Will, then Chris, and then them both, tongues and hands everywhere, stroking him through the after-shakes and smoothing over his muscles.

It's fucking amazing to be that enveloped.

It's just as nice to pull back a little and watch them kiss; they get so lost in each other, and instead of jealousy all he feels is content to be allowed to watch them. Chris' eyes are slitted open and Will is gently working his lips with wet, slow kisses, one hand stroking the small of his back.

"Want to feel you," he breathes, trailing kisses across Chris' jaw and then latching onto a patch of skin on his throat. "Want to feel you so bad."

"God, now, please? I—I'm ready, I—while you were—"

"Oh, honey, you are—"

Tingling, Darren settles on his knees beside Chris, who sprawls on his back and spreads his legs hungrily. His cock is purple at the tip with need, and Darren wonders if he'll be allowed to take care of that.

"Make sure I'm ready?" Chris asks, kissing Darren's cheek softly.

"Okay," Darren breathes, shaking as he passes his fingers between Chris' legs, seeking. Oh—he's—wet, and a little sticky, and—his hole just swallows two of Darren's fingers without a hint of resistance. "Oh, god, you're—god—"

Chris breathes out, back arching. "Don't do that—I like it rough, you can—"

"Fuck." He does what he'd do if this were Mia and she were ready go, turning his wrist, lining up his fingers and pumping. Only—Chris is a little tighter, and less slippery, different inside and oh, that's what a prostate feels like.

"Oh my god," Chris breathes. His cock jerks on his belly and spits a few droplets of clear fluid. "Oh, god, Darren." His hips are churning, setting the muscles along his chest and arms rippling, his sweaty, flushed skin giving off heat like a furnace. He's fucking stunning, and Darren can't stop looking at the long trail of his hair-dusted legs as they beg permission to wrap around Will's hips.

"Please, now? Please, fuck, need more. Fuck me, come on, baby. Come on," he pants. It's innocent but not at the same time—his mouth is open and his expression wild, and Will is looking at him as if the sun rises and sets according to the words coming out of his mouth.

He doesn't break eye contact at all as he sinks inside Chris' tight body, and the contented smile that curves Chris' mouth speaks volumes. He looks blissful as Will fills him up, in a way that's so familiar and loving that it's impossible not to recognize.

"God, so good, right—right there, sweetheart," he breathes, scrapping his fingernails down Will's stomach, leaving red marks along the ridges of his abdominal muscles. 

Will fucks Chris slow and deep, not much in and out but just deep, deep rocking, using the girth that he has in his favor to keep Chris full and grinding his prostate continually. It doesn't take long before Chris is begging and gasping and writhing like a fish, cock literally pulsing on his stomach.

"Have to come," he whines, shaking. Darren has never felt anyone so unstable before—his hands are literally quaking, clutching Darren's hands against his belly to keep them from touching his cock, which looks like it's about to spurt untouched as it is.

Will locks his hips and Chris goes wild, fucking down against him, grinding his prostate against Will's cock.

"Touch me," Chris gasps, dragging Darren's hand to his flushed, aching dick. "Just squeeze me hard I'm going to—" Darren kisses him and strokes him fast and hard, all at once. Chris breathes frantically against his mouth, kissing him almost sweetly, eyes open. "Fuck, Darren. Fuck, feels so good."

Chris is beautiful when he comes, mouth a perfect wet pink little o-shape, and he shoots—so high, all over Will's skin and some falling over his own stomach. He trembles for minutes afterward, muscles ticking everywhere—his tight arms, his belly, and his thighs most of all.

Will holds him and kisses him and Darren finds it a little too easy to take his other side, stroking his sweaty, warm flesh and kissing down the side of his arm, tracing the ridges and veins down his bicep.

It's hazy and warm and sweet—there are friendly feelings as well as intimate ones, and Darren feels like a puppy in a pile. He'd thought it might be awkward; it's anything but.

And then he realizes that Will hadn't come with Chris.

Jesus. It's been well over two hours and he's still fucking hard.

Darren crawls around Chris' body and along Will's legs—he doesn't really wait for permission but he does wait for Chris to catch on, and before Will even lifts his head from the pillow Chris is stripping the condom off of his cock and he and Darren bend their heads to find him at the same time—Darren gets mostly the side and applies his tongue and Chris sinks down around the head.

Will huffs out a breath and puts one hand on each of their heads. "God, yes—so good, guys, just—"

It doesn't take long. He's been holding back for the entire time, and when he comes it's—a lot, thick and white, splattering Chris' cheek and Darren's chin and all over his own stomach and chest.

Darren does what he's wanted to do all night—he licks the come off of Will's abs, taking his time to find every last bit of it. It's not the taste so much as the process, trying to beat Chris to each streak and laughing as they fight over them, kissing as Will strokes them and twitches on the bed.

And then there's a hand in his hair and he's being kissed in that dizzying back and forth way that he is slowly coming to love, two tongues lashing at the salty tang spread across his lips, four hands traveling his body and drawing him in.

They lie in silence after Will's heartbeat comes down, and Darren is the first to speak.

"That was fucking incredible."

Chris and Will—tangled up around each other—laugh and roll sideways a little to cool off. 

"Can't disagree," Chris sighs.

"You are ridiculously hot," Will says.

"I kind of want to do this again," Darren says.

"Any time you want," Will replies, grinning ear to ear.


End file.
